A Risk And What It Brings

Shelob's Lair

Frodo and Sam ran through the cave, tripping over skeletons and bodies and webs.
The cave was dark.
They were lost.
Frodo panted and sat at a wall, pondering what they should do.
Sam panted, cursing Gollum for abandoning them.
Frodo remembered something. Something Lady Galadriel had gifted him when the Fellowship departed Lothlorien.
"And for you, Frodo Baggins," she had said, "I give you the light of Earendil. May it be a light for you in dark places. When all other lights go out."
Frodo felt around in his pockets, and pulled out the phial.
He looked at it.
He suddenly exclaimed in Elvish, although he hadn't understood what he had said.
The light grew from the phial, brightening where they were.
Only Sam noticed what was behind Frodo.
A figure. A tall, disgusting, horrid creature stood behind him.
A giant spider. About 6 feet tall, with horrid, glossed over eyes.
Her name was Shelob. She was the terror that lurked within Cirith Ungol, the horror that lived in the pass of Mordor.
She screeched, alerting Frodo of her presence.
He got up and drew his sword, Sting, and he ran with Sam.
Not a word was said. The two ran, trying to evade the spider as it chased them through the caverns.
Frodo soon found himself stuck in a web that blocked an exit. He dropped the phial.
Sam knew it was up to him to help them escape. He picked up the phial and began to hack the web loose, holding the phial and using its light to ward off Shelob.
The spider screeched.
Frodo and Sam ran and escaped the cave.
Shelob was not so easily deceived. She knew her way around the pass of Cirith Ungol, and the hobbits would not get away without trouble.

The armies clashed hard. The Rohirrim rode fast and hard, the small Ents had been brought together by Gandalf and helped in the attack. They fought the trolls, destroyed the battering ram, and suffered few losses to the fire.
The Oliphants trampled and fought with them.
The Witch-King had found its way down to the fields of Pelennor.
He dismounted his Fell Beast, and Gandalf dismounted Shadowfax.
The Witch-King drew his flaming sword, and raised his mace, connected to a hilt by a chain.
The White Wizard fought with the Nazgul, casting spells and fighting off his sword with his own, Glamdring.
The Witch-King knocked back the wizard, hitting him with his mace and knocking him back.
"Old fool," he said, in a cold and raspy voice.
"You will die here and now. No man can kill me."
Gandalf raised himself, and drew his sword once more, holding his staff in a defensive position.
"No man am I! You speak to a maiar! One who is beyond mortal, and an emissary of the Valar! Go back to the shadow that awaits you and your master!"
The Witch-King laughed.

Gimli rode out with the others, much too short for the horse he rode.
"Fifteen!" shouted the dwarf, hacking down an Orc with his axe.
"Three!" yelled Pippin, throwing a rock at an Uruk.
Boromir and Faramir fought valiantly, side-by-side.
Merry fought beside them, tripping and slaying Orcs.
Gimli's horse rode past the Witch-King, and he threw an axe at him.
The leader of the Nazgul merely turned his head and caught the axe.
Gandalf used the opportunity to swing his sword for a killing blow, but the Witch-King blocked it with his flaming sword.
A small figure leapt from off a horse. He yelled, and plunged his dagger into the Witch-King's leg.
Gandalf slammed his staff onto the ground, casting a light that hurt the Witch-King. Gandalf raised his sword, and smote down his enemy.
Pippin lay there, his arm hurt from stabbing the Nazgul lord.

"Late, as usual, pirate-scum!" yelled an Orc.
"Come, you lazy rats! Get off your ships!"
The figures that jumped off the boat and onto the docks of Gondor were none other than Aragorn and Legolas.
Aragorn raised Narsil, and the ghost army came forth, ready to fight for the place they had forsaken long before.